


The End Where I Begin

by rowofstars



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-27
Updated: 2009-11-27
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:17:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4702355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are endings and beginnings, and then there's us. Written for challenge 17 at <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://then-theres-us.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://then-theres-us.livejournal.com/">then_theres_us</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End Where I Begin

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd so any mistakes are mine. If you see something, let me know. This is my entry for Challenge 17 at [](http://then-theres-us.livejournal.com/profile)[then_theres_us](http://then-theres-us.livejournal.com/). The prompts were screenshots, one from each episode that has Doctor/Rose, and there are some incredible entries. I chose an image from The End of the World and The Parting of the Ways.

The first gasping breath in his new body burns down his throat to rest heavily in his chest. It tastes like the blood and ash that covers him, clinging like sin to his skin. He stumbles through the corridors, tearing the clothes from his body as he goes, letting the tattered fabric fall to the floor.

There’s always a trail of destruction in his wake.

He barely makes it to his room before the weight of his guilt overwhelms him and the world turns black. When he comes to, the screams of the fallen have finally ceased, replaced by a reticent loneliness. He chooses rough denim and a plain jumper instead of a fine suit or wild colors, cloaking himself in armor made of worn leather.

He wants to fade into the background, another face in the crowd, another lost soul.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He watches her as she takes it in, the enormity of it all just on the other side of the glass. He brought her here so he could show her how it ends because he’s forgotten how to make it begin again.

Later, they stand on a concrete island, in a moving sea of people, talking about chips and laughing for no other reason than they can. She curls her arm around his, leans in, and he thinks it shouldn’t be possible for fingers and palms and the crooks of elbows to fit together so well.

Maybe he doesn’t have to remember how it starts, maybe she already knows.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They’re on a planet with blue grass and a green sky, watching two suns set and three moons rise, when it happens for the first time. Her lips feel too young under his and their noses bump together twice before he gets it right. (There’s a joke she could make, but she doesn’t.)

He moves away first so he can see the flush of her cheeks and the way her lashes flutter over her warm brown eyes. She laughs and smoothes her hands over the lapels of his leather jacket, then pulls him down into the grass to watch the dance of the fireflies.

He decides that it might have started without him, and that he’s the one who’s along for the ride.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She is perfection, and he can’t get enough of the scandalous noises spilling from her lips or the hot, slick glide of her skin. He wants to fall into her, to let go when she breathes in and know what it’s like to be forgiven.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He finds himself watching her again, bathed in the golden glow of eternity and shining like his North Star. He wants to follow her home and let her destroy the whole bloody thing with a laugh or the twitch of her little finger. He wants her to destroy him, to bring him back to life, reborn without the constant heaviness that presses on his soul.

So he lets her.

It’s the lightest touch, but he can feel the stickiness of her lip gloss and taste the bitter sweetness of forever on her lips. Somewhere a wolf howls, somewhere a violent storm rages, and for a fleeting moment it’s just them, a brilliant catastrophe stretching out across the stars.

She holds it there, unwilling to give it up until he pulls away and it all comes shattering out of her, renewed and whole.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The red dust stains his hands like blood as the cloister bell rings ominously, echoing through the empty halls of his hearts. It’s another end, his end, and a fitting punishment for his transgressions.

The silence is deafening, the darkness settles in, and he wonders who will save his soul now.


End file.
